


The Easiest Lie

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, M/M, Mpreg, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-09
Updated: 2007-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco hides something from Harry.  How far will Harry go to regain it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Easiest Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oldenuf2nb](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=oldenuf2nb).



> I haven’t written much MPreg, but I had fun with this because it was different from any I’d done before. I took the opportunity to show the very beginning of things, here, and how adversarial their relationship is. I hope you enjoy it, Oldenuf2nb. I had a great time writing it.

Everyone knows the story, right? How Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy hated each other from day one? How the two of us never could get on, fight over anything and everything we could. Even after the war. He hated me for standing with my family, and I hated him for being a self-righteous prick. The truth is, I doubted that could ever change.

But something did.

Because of that stupid wand. Never mind the fact that I would never be able to live it down that he’d told all of Hogwarts that he’d “conquered me” to get it. No, this happened after the battle. After I’d allowed myself to think that I actually escaped him once and for all.

It was right after the battle. Mother and father had gone ahead to talk to the Aurors. I’d wanted a last look at the school before we left, and was walking down the hall just as Potter appeared coming out of the stairwell that led to what had been Dumbledore’s office. I was about to turn around and walk the other way when Potter called my name.

Considering Potter had saved my life twice in the last twelve hours, I could hardly turn my back on him, though I wished I’d been able at the time, and wished it even more in the following years. As it was, I waited for him to approach me. I was unarmed. The Aurors had taken mother’s wand from me, so there wasn’t any way I would have been able to defend myself if Potter had wanted to hurt me.

I was rather shocked when he tried to give me back the wand he’d taken from me, actually. I’d been expecting him to keep it as a souvenir, but then, I should have known he was far too Gryffindor for that. In fact, I said so to his face. And he snarled back that he should have known I’d be unable to accept it back graciously. We growled back and forth about it for several minutes, ending with me pressed against the wall, each of us with one hand clutching at the wand as our snarls turned to kisses, then moans as we ground together, and then, when he spun me around, to more. It was the best sex I can recall having to that point—not that I would tell the git that.

Afterwards, Potter had been so appalled, that he’d run away. Imagine that. A Gryffindor that actually wasn’t able to face up to what he’d done. Still, I was grateful. It left me with my dignity intact, instead of having to run away from him. If I’d known then what was about to happen, I’d definitely have beaten him to the punch.

As it was, I didn’t realize what had happened until more than a month later. Weeks of feeling ill finally drove me to the private healer we kept on retainer, and when he told me, I was glad I hadn’t gone to St Mungos. He’d run a series of increasingly more unlikely tests as he tried to work out what was wrong with me, and it was another week before he came up with an answer.

“Pregnant? You can’t be serious!”

“I’m afraid so, Mister Malfoy. The tests were run twice. There’s no chance it’s something else.”

I’d run from his office, panicked. There was only one thing for it. As much as I abhorred the idea of bearing Harry Potter’s child, it did solve one problem for me that I’d been searching for a solution to for years. While my parents knew my preference for men, they still expected me to marry and have an heir or two. This way, the child would be mine and no one else’s, because there was no way I was going to tell Potter what he’d done to me.

But how to hide it? People were bound to notice if I got fat and then suddenly had an infant with no woman in sight…no, this would have to be handled out of the country. So I began to pack. I told mother I needed time to think, and father that I needed a bit of fun, and they both seemed to take the lies at face value. Within the week, I was in our villa in the South of France.

It was simple enough to hire a specialized healer who understood the delicacy of male pregnancy, and who could help me should any emergency arise. I made certain to be seen with a few very lovely young ladies before I began to show, and then settled in to wait everything out.

I did a lot of reading during that time, trying to understand how Potter could have managed it. This wasn’t the sort of thing that could happen accidentally, unless both partners were willing, and I certainly hadn’t been. If he hadn’t been so horrified that day, I’d have been certain that he’d drugged me somehow, but my studies soon paid off when I found a journal about magical births and magic connections, and another about the causes of male pregnancy. It seemed the connection we had because of my wand, along with the fact that we’d both been holding it at the time had created some sort of mutual feedback loop in our internal magic. The wand, already connected to both of us, had sensed a need in each of us when we held it at the same time, and had sought to fulfill it. And I had been the lucky recipient of our moment of madness.

Well, there was no way I was ever telling him. Our child would only ever be known as mine. After all, I was the one having to deal with everything. And I needed a child far more than Potter, after all. He had Weasley’s sister, so she could provide him with as many brats as he could possibly wish for.

My bitterness grew as my pregnancy drew on, but so did other things. At first, the child had been nothing more than a means to an end. But then, around the same time I found out I was going to have a girl, the magical connection they always talk about between mother and child seemed to kick in. I began talking to her more often. Soon, I was talking to her all the time. Reading, telling her about Hogwarts, about my plans for her future, and just how much I was looking forward to meeting her. And how I desperately hoped she wouldn’t have black hair.

Celeste Diantha Malfoy was born in late January, and if I’d been able to keep my head from the pain, I would have been thrilled that I’d chosen Southern France. It was a rainy day, but had we been in Wiltshire, it would likely have been snowing.

I already loved her from carrying her for nine months, but the moment I held her I couldn’t look away. This tiny thing was mine. And I would never let anyone hurt her. Not ever.

We stayed in France another six months, until my daughter was almost starting to speak. Most of what she said was still unintelligible gibberish, but she was already saying something that sounded incredibly like “Da,” and I encouraged the word every chance I got.

I didn’t notify my parents of her birth until the week before we left. I’d needed the time to get back into shape, and didn’t want either of them guessing what had actually happened. When I finally talked to them, mother had been furious with me for not contacting them before, and horrified that the mother of my baby girl had died in childbirth. An easy lie. It was even true to an extent, given that _I_ had been my daughter’s mother, and was now her father. Never again was I going to allow myself be made into a “woman,” if I could help it.

I managed to keep them from descending on us by assuring them that we would be returning home within a few days, and that they could coo over their granddaughter when we arrived.

It took a bit of doing, but I managed to keep them from inviting everyone in the wizarding world to a party to introduce my daughter to them. As it was, each time someone held her, I couldn’t help wanting to snatch her back and run. Still, no one accused me of fathering Harry Potter’s child, or of any lies at all. In fact, they all seemed to adore her.

And so I relaxed. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to do. After all, Potter and his little flock hadn’t been there to meet her.

Unfortunately, there was only so long one could go along without running into Potter if you lived in wizarding Britain, and my luck ran out only a month after returning home. I’d taken Celeste to Diagon Alley with me to pick up a few things, and ran into him coming out of Flourish and Blotts along with Weasley and Granger.

Celeste’s eyes had originally been the bright blue of all newborns, but the color had been slowly changing since then, and while I’d hoped for the Malfoy grey, fate seemed to have another idea in mind, for each day, her eyes were just a bit greener. Her hair might have been all Malfoy, but those eyes…

As soon as he recognized me and saw her, I knew I’d have to run. I’d never be able to keep it from him. Still, I put on my mask as I always had around him, and pretended not to care. It was some time before I managed to shake the three of them off, then I Flooed home immediately and began to pack.

Unfortunately, between my own things, Celeste’s things, and trying to explain to my parents why I was leaving again, Potter showed up before I could escape. I was clever enough to keep him from seeing that I was getting ready to leave, but I couldn’t escape the inevitable questions. I put him off, telling him the same lies I’d told everyone else, but Potter knew me too well not to see through that.

“Just a coincidence, then, that her eyes are green?”

“Do I look like a girl to you, Potter? I assure you, her mother died giving birth to her. You’re hardly the only person in the world with green eyes.”

That seemed to bring him up short, but he persisted again when I tried to get him to leave. “No. I want to see her.”

“You can’t.”

Potter advanced on me then. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Malfoy.”

Oh, no. This was _not_ going to happen again. I drew my wand on him. It might have failed me once, but there was no way I was going to allow Potter to touch me now. “I can. It’s my house, and you have no cause. The house itself will fight you if you try. Besides, she’s sleeping. There isn’t anything to see. And I’m not going to let you wake her. Now get out!”

He went, but with much argument, and I was sure it wouldn’t be long before he was back with a warrant that would allow him access to my daughter. There was no way I would let him take her from me. I knew if our situation had been reversed, the first thing I’d have done was get my solicitor to get me full custody of the child. I couldn’t allow Potter the same chance. Especially since he had the legal system on his side. Only half-packed, I fled that night, Celeste in tow, a note for my parents left behind saying that I would contact them when I could.

The next two years were spent moving from place to place, never anywhere for too long, hoping that Potter hadn’t set his friends and colleagues after me. I relaxed after a time with no mention of our disappearance in the _Prophet_ , and no sighting of Potter anywhere near us. We moved into a small house with a garden, and settled in.

It was a beautiful little place, and after a while, I let myself relax and just enjoy being there. Celeste loved it. She was able to toddle around the gardens, and loved chasing the birds and squirrels that came to visit us. The neighbors got to know us, and it began to feel like we were home. It wasn’t the Manor, but I found it so relaxing, I didn’t find myself missing it in the least.

When spring came again, we began to spend time in the park, and Celeste, now three, loved the swings. I couldn’t push her high enough. I couldn’t wait to see her truly fly. She made a few little friends there, and we went often, and I would sit on the bench watching her play with her little group of friends.

And that was how he found us, of course. I’d settled on the bench as Celeste ran towards her friends, watching as they began to dig in the sandbox, my beautiful daughter immediately demanding that they build a castle for her. I didn’t see him when he settled beside me at first, so distracted by what they were doing.

“Takes after her father, doesn’t she?”

My heart stopped at the sound of that voice. I didn’t let it show, though. “Something like that.”

“Why did you run away, Draco? Do you know how suspicious that made things look?”

I turned to glare at him. “No one was running away,” I assured him. “My daughter and I simply wanted a place of our own.”

“Right. And the conversation we’d had the day before you disappeared had nothing to do with it? You didn’t think it confirmed anything I might have suspected? Or that it would make me look into things?”

“No.” I stood up and called Celeste’s name, and she looked up, surprised.

“Not finished, Papa.”

“I’m sorry, darling, but we need to go.”

“Not without me, you’re not,” Potter growled. “Not this time.”

“Leave us alone,” I growled at him.

Potter grabbed my arm. “No. Not until we’ve finished this discussion.” He looked around the park, noticing several of the mothers watching our hushed conversation. “Somewhere without an audience, preferably. Unless you’d prefer me to take you to the Ministry to talk there?”

As little as I wanted Potter in our home, I knew that going to the Ministry would be far worse. I might never see my daughter again, if Potter chose to use his authority over me. Who’d allow a Death Eater—or his family of Death Eaters—access to a child if they had custody taken from them? “Fine. Celeste, now.”

She grumbled, but got to her feet, then held out her arms so I could pick her up. I held her against my side, an arm curled around her waist, and nuzzled her hair for a moment to calm myself before I turned back to Potter. “It’s this way.” Then I led the way across the park and to the house I’d rented us.

It was a little white house with a lawn and a green front door. I’d fallen in love with it because of that door, but now I cursed at it mentally. How could I have been so stupid to let Potter catch up with me? I should have kept on running. To the Americas. Or Canada. Australia, even. We would have been impossible for him to find if we’d gone into the Outback. Well, it was pointless now. I just had to find a way to shake off Potter, and then we could make our escape once more. But I knew from the expression on Potter’s face, that wasn’t going to be an easy thing to do.

I opened the door and set Celeste down.

“Cocoa, Papa?”

“All right.” I turned to Potter. “Would you like anything?” I asked him grudgingly.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. But go ahead. I’ll follow.”

Not entirely what I’d hoped to hear, but at least he didn’t expect me to neglect my daughter. I lead the way into the kitchen, setting Celeste in her highchair, then made her a lukewarm cup of cocoa with mini-marshmallows, which were her favorite. “There you are, darling.”

Potter had watched all of this with fascination, his eyes fixed on Celeste almost the entire time. Finally, I rolled my eyes. “You have _seen_ a child before, haven’t you, Potter?”

Turning to glare at me, he huffed. “Of course I have. Just…” He glanced at Celeste, who was now fishing out the marshmallows with her fingers and making a huge mess. I let her. It was easier than having to clean her up several times more before she was finished with the cup. He turned back to me. “Is she mine?”

It was the question I’d wanted most to keep him from asking. I went with the easiest lie. “No. She’s mine.”

“I had Hermione help me try to figure this out after I saw her, Draco. I have to admit, the idea shocked me, but with magic in the mix… She looks like me.” He stood up and moved closer to her, and she looked up at him, a chocolate mustache on her face.

“Hi!” she said. “You Papa’s friend?”

“Not exactly.” Harry smiled at her, and I knew he was charmed by her. She had the sort of cheery disposition that made you want to hug her all the time. “But I might become one…would you like that?”

“No, you won’t be,” I assured him, glowering. “Time for your nap, Celeste.”

“Not tired, Papa.”

But I was already cleaning off her hands and face. I didn’t want her witnessing this conversation. “Then you can play with the toys in your bed. But you’re not to leave your room.” I carried her up there, and tucked her in, turning on her favorite ducky mobile, which had her eyes automatically drooping from the sleeping charm I’d placed on it for my own sanity the year before.

When I came back downstairs, Potter was washing out the cup. “God…not only do you not leave, you obviously still don’t have a clue, do you? Magic does have its uses.”

“Actually, I happen to find the practice of doing dishes by hand relaxing.”

I snorted. “Right. I should have remembered. Muggle-raised,” I sneered.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Malfoy,” he answered back, glowering at me.

“Not for you, maybe.”

“Look, Malfoy…” He said, advancing on me once more.

My wand was out before he could reach me. “Don’t you dare touch me! Not ever again,” I snarled. “She’s my daughter, Potter. Now, get out!”

“No.” His hand reached out for my wand, and before I knew what was happening, I was pressed up against the wall. “Not yet,” he whispered. “I’m not finished. There’s something else I realized I wanted, too.”

Things were falling apart faster than I’d even imagined they could, but I persisted. “Whatever you want, Potter, you’re not getting it here.”

“No?” he asked, a smile flickering on his face for the few seconds before he closed the short distance between us and kissed me. It was one of those kisses that takes all the breath from your body and makes you feel lighter than air. And that if you don’t hold on, you’ll fall into the sky. After only a second, I forgot everything, only wanting to get closer to him, wanting more, and moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back, I was so shocked at realizing who I was kissing, I was at a loss. “See? Not so bad.”

Unfortunately for him, the words brought me back to my senses. But it also made me think of a far better way to brush him off. I continued to blink at him, as though dazed. “God…Have you been practicing that ever since?” I licked my lips, and couldn’t help but grin internally when I saw Potter’s eyes follow its path.

“I just want to talk with you,” he told me when he managed to tear his eyes from my lips. He flushed when I laughed at that. “I mean…” He sighed.

“Quit while you’re ahead, Potter,” I said, still laughing softly. “Look, let me think about this, all right? I mean…obviously there’s something here. Why don’t you come back tomorrow, and we can talk, okay?”

He seemed flustered by my laughter and uncertain how to object, so before he could say anything more, I maneuvered him out of the house and shut the door behind him. I knew it wouldn’t work for long. Once he left, he’d have time to regroup, so I began packing immediately. I hated leaving this place. It almost felt like home. But he knew we were here, so we had to. Maybe someday we’d find a place just as good.

It wasn’t even two hours later when he knocked on the door. I tried to ignore it, but after ten minutes, I knew he wasn’t going to give up, so I answered it. Better that then have the nosy neighbors wonder why I didn’t when they could see I was home. I opened the door a slit and glared at him. “What do you want now? I thought you said you’d give me a bit of time.”

“I didn’t. You pushed me out the door before I could even think.”

“And what is there to think about?”

“Us.”

I’d been expecting him to demand to see Celeste again, so the statement shocked me. “What?”

“You heard me.” He looked nervous, but somehow hopeful. As though he really believed I would let him in.

“No. You don’t want me. It’s just your way of trying to take her from me…”

“No. I won’t, Draco. I’ve lived that. I wouldn’t do that to any child, least of all my own.”

“She’s not…!”

“Draco…do you really want to have this conversation with me on the doorstep, or are you going to let me in?”

I glanced next door, and sure enough, Mrs Phelps was peeking through her blinds. I opened the door wider so he could come in, then closed it behind him. “This means nothing,” I said, hoping it was true, but with a sinking feeling that I’d already lost this battle.

He took in the mess that I’d left in the living room to answer the door. “Trying to avoid me again?”

“Of course not. We’re going to visit mother and father. Traveling with a child means packing well ahead of time.”

He raised his eyebrow at me. “Right. Look. I won’t take her from you. But she’s mine, isn’t she?” I opened my mouth to repeat my denial, but his fingers were on my lips before the words could escape. “Please, Draco, we both know it’s true.”

I took a deep breath and turned away. The earlier kiss, and now this touch, had affected me far more than I wanted them to, and I knew he knew it, too. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?” I whispered.

“I just want to know her, Draco. Surely I deserve that much?”

“Why do you think you deserve anything?” I asked. It wasn’t a denial so much as a last stab at finding a way to get rid of him once and for all.

He turned away, and I felt a surge of confidence at his hesitation. Maybe I could win this after all? But then he answered. “Because whatever you might think, Draco, I never set out to hurt you. And if I’d known, I would have helped you. Maybe more.”

I wanted to tell him he was a stupid Gryffindor with his heart on his sleeve, or point out all the times when he had hurt me, whether or not he’d intended to. Instead, something inside me snapped completely. “Yeah? What would you have done, boy wonder? Held my hand while a healer got rid of her so that you could go back to your little girlfriend and have her none the wiser that you’re a pouf?”

“My girlfriend…Draco…what…”

“Just fuck off, Potter. Go away and leave us be. You can’t have her. I need her more.”

“Fucking hell, Malfoy! She’s not a possession! She’s a child! And I never said this was just about her!”

I ignored the last, focusing on my daughter. “Oh? I know you would have gotten rid of her to keep the world from knowing you were a pouf! Deny it!”

“I wouldn’t! You don’t even know what you’re talking about! After that day… Not that you would know…I stopped seeing Ginny. Or any girls. I did a lot of thinking. If I’d known that being…”

“Oh, please. Gay. Can’t even say it, can you?”

Obviously, that was too much for Potter as he took that moment to push me against the wall for the second time that day. “Gay. I can say it just fine, Malfoy. You know what else? The thing that really chokes me up? The fact that I’d always dreamed of my own family, and I thought I’d lost that chance for good because I was attracted to blokes, and here you are, a ready-made family. You. Her…” He blinked, then shook his head, backing off abruptly.

I caught his arm. “No. Finish what you were going to say,” I said softly, my voice just this side of pleading.

Harry’s eyes met mine. “It’s everything I always wanted, Draco. And you want to take it away from me,” he said, looking away, defeated.

“Yes, well, I’m not up to playing happy homemaker just so you can have a child, Potter. She’s mine. Go have your own if you want one so bad.”

“Damn it Malfoy! It’s not just her!” He advanced on me again, and I was so shocked that I let him back me into the wall again. “I don’t want to raise a child by myself. I’ve always wanted a family. I just thought…after what happened…” He blushed, looking down, but pressed on. “I didn’t think you’d ever let me near you again, Draco.”

Whatever else I’d expected, that wasn’t it. “You…want…me?” I thought he’d come on to me to shut me up, or distract me so he could take her away, or…god knew what reason. But if he honestly wanted me… “Really? This…isn’t about her?”

He turned back, incredulous. “It’s about both of you. It always has been, Draco. Is that so hard to understand?”

Years of animosity and recriminations stood between us. But if this was something he really wanted, maybe, just maybe… “Yes.” He was about to turn away again, but I caught his arm. “Explain it to me?”

“Ex-explain?”

I nodded, pulling him closer. “Please?” Maybe for once in our lives, our needs could actually be the same?

The dawning smile on his face before he kissed me assured me I’d made the right choice. I couldn’t wait to introduce him properly to our daughter—in the morning.


End file.
